The Pocky Game
by BlueBrainProductions
Summary: Oneshot for Hetaliafreak111. Alfred has learned a new game and wants Arthur to play with him. When the stuffy English professor refuses from hell to high water, will poor Alfred ever get his chance to play with his crush? USUK Human!AU


Here is a new USUK oneshot for Hetaliafreak111. I hope you enjoy it!

The topic was that Alfred and Arthur play the pocky game.

**Rated: K+**

Disclaimer: _Hetalia: Axis Powers_ to Hidekaz Himaruya

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"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No, Alfred."

"Aw c'mon, that's no fair. Please?"

"How many languages do I have to say it in before it gets through your thick head?"

"How many do you know?"

Arthur dropped his pen on the desk and buried his face in his hands. His groan of frustration was muffled. After an hour of this game he had finally had enough. There was only so much of Alfred's enthusiasm that he could take in one day. Today's limit had been maxed out. The Englishman pulled his hands away so he could look at his friend.

"Why must you bother me so much?" he questioned almost dismally.

A wry smirk worked its way onto Alfred's face as he leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. "Because you like a good argument," was his confident reply.

One large eyebrow rose up his forehead. "I'll admit I like having a debate," Arthur said, "But only intelligent ones."

"I can have an intelligent argument. What do you think we do in the physics department all day?"

"Well –"

Alfred held up a hand and cut the other man off. "Actually, don't answer that."

Arthur chuckled as he picked up his cup of tea to sip from. The liquid had cooled off slightly, but it was still good. The men were currently taking up all of the space in Arthur's broom cupboard of an office. It was a wonder how the room was able to fit an L-shaped desk, two filing cabinets, an overflowing bookshelf and three chairs. Arthur did not seem to mind. He was just happy he got an office with a window that could open.

Both of them were professors at a prestigious college in Connecticut. Alfred taught physics and also used the labs for his own research. He was currently trying to finish writing an academic journal. The first draft was due to the editor in a month's time, but the American was nowhere near finished. On the opposite end was Arthur. He was an English professor who specialized in Shakespearean literature. His classes were notoriously difficult, but any student who could pass was renowned as a hero.

"So will you play?" Alfred asked eagerly.

"No, I will not play… whatever it's called," Arthur replied, setting his cup down. "It's a childish game."

"It's called the pocky game."

The English professor shrugged. "Whatever. Knowing its name will not change my mind. Where did you learn about such a game anyways?"

"From Kiku," Alfred sat back in his chair. "He invited me to help run his art booth at an anime convention a couple weeks ago. A lot of people were playing."

Arthur hummed in response. He picked up his red pen and settled back to continue grading an essay. The silence that filled the small room was very discerning. The American was never this quiet unless he was doing something devious or actually thinking. Arthur could feel his counterpart's eyes boring into his forehead.

"Don't you have research to finish?"

"My esteemed colleague, one Mr. Braginski, wanted the lab to himself today."

"Is he hiding from his sister again?"

"Probably."

"He needs to get a restraining order against her. She is off her rocker."

Alfred snorted loudly. "You really think she would abide by the 'Don't come within five hundred feet of Ivan' rule?"

"Now that I think about it, no she would not." Arthur made a note about a grammatical error on the right margin. "Well, what about your classwork?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

The no-shit-Sherlock expression that was sent across the desk only made Alfred smile. He held up his hands as if surrendering to the enemy as he stood up.

"Fine, fine," he said. "I know when I'm not wanted."

Arthur blatantly rolled his eyes. "I have been trying to get rid of you for over an hour, dimwit."

"Really? And here I thought we were having a wonderful conversation."

"Get out."

As Alfred opened the door, he turned back to face Arthur. "My offer still stands to play the game," he said and pointed at the other.

"And my response is still a no. Now leave before I kick your arse out myself." There was no malicious tone to the Englishman's voice, but Alfred did not doubt his friend would live up to the threat.

"Whatever. Oh and Gilbert said we're meeting at the bar at seven."

"Fine, I'll be there at seven then."

Alfred closed the door behind him and Arthur was finally able to get some work done.

[-][-][-][-][-][-][-][-][-][-]

The rest of the day went smoothly. Arthur finished grading his student's essays and left his office in a good mood. None of his students received a grade under a C. That was slightly unusual since there were a couple of them who he was sure would probably fail the semester. These were the students who came to class to sit bored for an hour and a half. They never slept since their professor was known for throwing erasers at heads.

Francis Bonnefoy, a French literature professor and oldest friend of Arthur's, met him outside of the English department building. The Frenchman had already lost his tie and jacket, preferring to go out in just a nice shirt with the first two buttons undone. Had he not decided to start a career teaching he would have definitely gone for something in the fashion world.

"_Bonsoir_, Arthur."

"Good evening. I thought you would be at the bar already."

"_Non_," Francis said and scratched the back of his neck. "I had some work to finish."

They walked together to the parking lot. Francis lived close enough to the campus that he walked every day. He owned a car, but hardly ever drove it. There was never really any need too. So if he could, he rode with someone else to save on gas. Arthur did not mind too much as long as the snail-slurper did not try to get frisky with him. They left the campus in Arthur's car and headed to the local bar. Not too many students went there because it was more of a laid back bar. The students were more interested in the clubs. Alfred, his half-brother Mathieu, Gilbert and Ludwig Beilschmidt, Feliciano Vargas, and Antonio Fernandez Carriedo were already nose deep in drinks.

"Francis!" Gilbert yelled. "Come here and grab a cue!"

He and Antonio were playing pool on the far side of the bar. The Spaniard was bent over the table, aiming at a solid red ball. His tongue stuck out of his mouth as he concentrated. Francis took the beer that was held out to him when he finally made it to the pool table. Arthur was left to join the others at the bar. He took the empty stool between Feliciano and Alfred.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asked gruffly.

"Something strong," Arthur replied as he got settled on the stool.

"Long Island Iced Tea it is."

"Woah. Starting out strong are we?" Alfred gently knocked his elbow against the other man's.

Arthur shrugged. "I'm celebrating tonight."

"What's the occasion?"

"None of my students failed their essays."

Everyone had a good laugh about that. Alfred leaned back so far that he almost toppled right off of his seat. His brother grabbed his arm just in time though. Arthur scowled at him.

"What is so funny, idiot?" he asked in a slightly offended tone.

"You! You drink for the weirdest reasons!"

"My reasons are not _weird_."

"Sure Arthur. Sure," Alfred chuckled as he brought a beer bottle to his lips.

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Three hours, two Long Island Iced Teas, and a couple beers later, Arthur was completely smashed. He pranced around the bar happily, knocking against Francis and messing up his aim. Then he would throw his arms around Ludwig and Feliciano's shoulders and tried to get them to start up a tavern tune. The man was such a lightweight. Had he been in any sort of right mind he would have been mortified at his ungentlemanly actions. When the Englishman fell against Gilbert for the third time in an hour, Alfred made the decision to take Arthur home.

"You can drive, right Mattie?" Alfred asked, pulling his keys from his back pocket.

"Of course I can." The Canadian held out his hand for the keys. "I have to be able to drive for Gilbert and Francis anyways."

"Right, I'll see you later." Alfred turned to look around the bar.

He saw Arthur was leaning against Francis. They were singing two completely different songs in different languages.

"Eighty-seven bottles of… beer on the wall! Eighty-seven bottles of beer!" Arthur sang loudly and obnoxiously. "Alfred! Come sing with me!"

"No, it's time to go home. I think you've had enough drinks for tonight."

A full on pout came over the English professor's features. "You're no fair, bloody… git!" He spoke like a child who was not getting his way.

"I know. I know. Now let's go."

"Go on, _mon ami_," Francis gently shook off his friend into Alfred's arms.

"One more drink," Arthur tried to bargain.

Alfred tried to not laugh as he practically dragged his friend out of the bar. The night air was cool against their skin, but it went unnoticed. Arthur stumbled over his own feet and Alfred had to wrap an arm around his waist just to keep him upright.

"You are more trouble than you're worth, you know that?" Alfred muttered lightheartedly.

"What did you call me?"

"My best friend forever, Artie!"

The Englishman snorted hotly. "That's a lie. Francis is my best friend," he slurred in response.

"I really wish I had caught that on tape."

They came up on Arthur's car finally. It was covered with droplets of dew that made it shine in the pale light of the streetlamp above. Alfred fumbled with the keys, trying to find the one that fit the door. It seemed that Arthur had gotten bored of just standing around. He spun around in front of Alfred, placing himself between the taller man and the car.

"What are you-" Alfred was cut off when Arthur threw his arms around his neck.

Their faces were mere inches apart. The American felt a blush spreading over his cheeks. Both he and Arthur were gay, but never had shown any true interest in each other. Alfred definitely had a horribly cliché crush on his friend. He had wanted to act on it for some time, but felt that something would go wrong. So he kept quiet and remained in the friend zone. However, now he was being put to the test to not react to anything Arthur did. His friend was drunk and he would never forgive himself if he took advantage of the smaller man.

"I have an idea," Arthur sing-songed, giving a loopy smile.

"What's that?"

"We should play the pocky game!"

"You really are drunk. Let's get you home, dude."

Alfred tried to pull the smaller man's arms off of his neck, but Arthur would not have it. He tightened his grip and effectively brought their bodies flush against each other.

"Not until we play!" He gave his best puppy eyes which were honestly pretty good for doing them so drunk.

"Arthur, stop it. This isn't funny anymore. Let go and get in the car."

"No! I want to play!"

Alfred sighed heavily. "We don't even have any pocky to use."

Bushy eyebrows scrunched together to show Arthur was thinking deeply about the current predicament. A few moments passed by and then suddenly his face lit up like he just had a great idea. Alfred was slightly afraid of whatever this idea was.

"We could play without the pocky," Arthur practically purred and his eyes closed partially.

His breath got caught in his throat. That was one damn sexy look. Alfred had to concentrate very hard on keeping his hands at his sides. After swallowing thickly, he asked, "H-how would we do that?"

Arthur only chuckled in response. Even in his drunken state he could not understand how naïve his taller counterpart could be. So he did the only thing he could properly think of. He pushed himself up on the tips of his toes and kissed Alfred full on the lips. The physicist could honestly say that this was the last thing he was expecting. He stood there frozen in surprise for a few seconds before getting his bearings back. He gently pushed Arthur against the passenger door, wrapping his left arm around the other man's waist and resting his right forearm against the car. The kiss was a bit sloppy considering one was very impaired from drinking, but it was still amazing. Alfred finally pulled back to get some air. Both were panting lightly from excitement. Arthur smiled and placed a few kisses on the corner of the taller man's mouth.

"You know, I think I sort of like this game," the Englishman stated almost thoughtfully. "It's kind of fun."

"It's even more fun with the pocky."

"Then I expect you to buy some later so we can play properly."

Alfred nodded excitedly while he replied, "Yeah. I'll get it tomorrow."

"Good. Now kiss me again."

The taller man was more than happy to oblige. He tilted his head to the side and leaned down to connect their lips again. However, just as he was millimeters away, Arthur decided it was time to pass out. He dropped like a dead weight and Alfred nearly missed catching him.

"Well damn," he muttered, picking up Arthur like a bride.

It took some time, but he was able to get the passenger door open and set the drunken man on the seat. Arthur mumbled in his sleep and started to snore. Rolling his eyes, Alfred got in the driver's seat and started the car.

"It's too bad you probably won't remember what just happened," the American said to no one in particular. "Oh well. Even if you don't, I'm still gonna buy pocky and get you to play when your sober."

Alfred laughed when the only response was a loud snore. With the devious plan on his mind, he put the car in gear and headed out.

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**If you would like to request a oneshot, please send off a PM to me!**

To anon: I left the ending like that so your imaginations can add on whatever else your little hearts desire. ;)


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